Unconditional
by Words You've Spoken
Summary: Dean, the mental older brother of Sam lives in the mental ward in which Doctor Castiel has taken on his case, trying to help him to the best of his abilities. Destiel and maybe some Sabriel eventually.


**A/N: **There isn't much Destiel in this one, but I promise it's coming XD Oh, and, I don't own anything from Supernatural.

"Seriously, Doc, how is he?" A largely built man asked, his concerned, brown eyes shimmering with the smallest glint of hope, "Is he improving?"

The brown-haired doctor looked to the floor, but then back to the taller man, sighing slightly, "Listen, Mr. Winchester, he's certainly better than he was before, but I don't think there will ever be anyway to completely 'fix' Dean's mental state." He ran his hand over his lips, thinking for a moment, not finding a way to put the news lightly, "All we can do now is give him medication, and keep him here for further observation."

Mr. Winchester was silent for a moment as he took the information in, running his hands over his shaggy, brown hair. He nodded, "Okay… I… All right. Thank you, Doctor King. I really appreciate all that you've been doing."

"Mr. Winchester, I assume we'll be seeing a lot more of each other, so please, call me Castiel. Or Cas." The doctor smiled at the man sympathetically, the clipboard under his arm.

"Call me Sam, then." He nodded once, and then looked down at his watch, "Uh, can I see him real quick? I have an interview in about two hours, and I need to go get ready."

"Of course. You know where his room is by now. I'll be in my office if you need anything." Castiel bowed his head slightly before turning and walking down the hall, entering a room with his name on the side of the door.

Sam walked down the hallway, his black shoes tapping on the floor. Before stepping into the door's window view, he took a deep breath, and smiled.

"Dean?" Sam asked as he pushed the door open, closing it behind himself.

Dean looked up at Sam from the bag on his bed, "Took ya' long enough. Finally deciding to break me out of here, huh?" He asked, his voice deep. He stuffed his clothing into the bag quickly, pulling a few drawings off the wall and placing them on top.

"Uh, no, sorry, Dean. You're going to have to stay one more night. I… I'm sorry, bro." Sam stated, having to keep his voice from faltering. Only a few things in life made him this upset, and his brother's condition was one of them.

"Well, just hurry up and get things taken care of, would ya'? There are demons we need to take care of." Dean stated, though harshly whispered the last sentence. He grabbed the papers he had stuffed in the bag, hanging them back up on the wall with the tape he kept in one of his drawers. He had stolen it from Doctor Cas's office.

On the papers were drawings of strange symbols, like five-pointed stars in circle of colored-in flames, or, as Castiel had found out, the Key of Solomon.

Now, Dean and Sam had grown up together. They were brothers, and were closer than anyone could imagine, though they did have their differences.

Sam was the youngest of the two. Right out of high school, with one of the highest Grade Point Averages in the school, he went straight to Stanford University in California to become a lawyer.

Dean, on the other hand, didn't do as great in school as he could have. He was, however, a bit more social than his brother. A year after -just barely- graduating high school, joined the Army.

Their mother, Mary Winchester, had died when they were younger in a house fire. She was the only one home at the time because John, their father, had taken them to a baseball game. Unfortunately, John had passed as well, once both of them were out of high school. He had been out drinking, leaving Dean back at the motel, and was killed when his car ran into a tree.

After his father died, Dean couldn't cope very well. He traveled with his father for a bit, just enjoying the scenery of the United States, and now had nothing left but his brother Sam, who was in college.

Dean didn't allow himself to believe his father was dead, and instead, decided that he had gone off on his own to find the thing that killed his mother, even though his mother died in a fire caused by a candle she had lit, and forgotten about.

He had created this whole story in his head, just to avoid the truth.

Though, it was just the beginning for him.

He went to war, deciding that it would help him learn to handle himself, and was shipped to Afghanistan after some training for four years, allowing Sam to finish his pre-law courses.

That was when Dean's real problems began. He saw 'demons' and 'monsters' in his head, projecting into real life. He had no line between fantasy and reality. He became a self-proclaimed 'Hunter'.

He showed up at Bobby Singer's doorstep, an old family friend, believing him to be a 'Hunter' as well. Bobby was a hunter, but he hunted actual game in the forest.

Bobby called Sam, asking him to bring him to California with him, and letting him stay for a bit, to clear his mind.

Sam agreed, because, despite everything, he loved his brother deeply. Though, when he attacked one of his friends, claiming them to be a demon, Sam decided it was time to get professional help.

He took Dean to a mental hospital about an hour away from his home, where Doctor Castiel King was assigned to him.

Sam sat down in chair next to the small table by the window, as Dean sat on his own bed, lifting his legs up onto it and leaning back luxuriously, "I'm starting to think there actually isn't a monster here, Sam. There haven't been any mutilations like you said there would be. I think it's time to wrap this one up."

"Dean, I think, maybe you should just stay a little longer, all right? I mean, you like Dr. King, right?" Sam asked, cocking his head to the side.

"Who, Cas? Yeah, he's awesome." Dean smiled, "But, he's no match to my brother. I miss driving around with you and living in your house. I got free –good- food." He grinned slightly, "Plus, I could drink there." He muttered.

Sam gave a small chuckle, and smiled, "Yeah, I guess you could, but, Bobby wanted you to have this, and, I may or may not have thrown something in there." He said, handing Dean a silver flask, though it was slightly rusty.

Dean took it, smirking, "Tell him I said thanks." He looked to the window in the door, and the camera he had placed a piece of paper over just before Sam walked into the room, and then took a swig from the flask, quickly closing it a stuffing it and dropping it into the same drawer he had put the tape.

He had fixed the drawer so only he knew how to open it, and everyone else just thought it to be broken.

Sam looked down at the floor for a moment, still smiling at the fact that even though Dean had lost it, he still had his charismatic personality. But, when he looked up again, he noticed that Dean's hand was wrapped in a white bandage, "What happened?"

"Oh, I, uh, I was doing a ritual to try and summon that ghost that I thought was haunting this place, and I needed human blood. It, uh, didn't work. Probably because instead of using ivory powder, I used crushed up pieces of bread, but…," He muttered.

Sam sighed, "Dean, you need to stop. You're never going to get better if you keep this up."

"Get better?" Dean asked instantly, and then after a moment, "You know all these things are real, right?"

"Dean," Sam started, sighing, "They aren't, Dean. You need to stop this. I just want you to get better." He raised his voice a bit, "Why can't you see that you made these things up, and…," He lowered his voice, "Dean, I'm sorry. I… I didn't mean to get mad."

Dean shrugged, crossing his arms and looking straight ahead, shaking his head, "No, no, its fine, Sam." He pursed his lips.

"Dean…," Sam sighed, and then he looked down at his watch, "I have to go. I'll see you Wednesday, all right? Me and Jessica are going out tomorrow, and we won't be able to make."

"Its fine. I'll see ya' then." Dean sighed.

Just as Sam stood, leaving the door, Castiel walked in, "Goodbye, Sam, see you next time." He gave a small bow of the head, before closing the door behind him, "Dean, I have your medication." He held up a small paper cup, placing it on the night stand, and then placed a plastic glass of water next to it.

Dean nodded, "Thanks." He took the pills and popped them into his mouth.

As Dean drank the water, swallowing the pills down, Castiel walked over to the corner of the room, pulling over the chair Sam had sat in and stood on it, pulling the piece of paper from the camera's lens.

Castiel got off the chair, pushing back into its place, and then holding the piece of paper up.

"You caught me." Dean grinned with a small shrug.

Castiel's reprimanding frown grew into a small smile, walking to the waste basket and dropping the paper into it, "Dean, Dean, Dean… What am I going to do with you?" He sighed, though continued to smile.

Dean shrugged, still grinning as he leaned back onto the bed post, "Love me unconditionally?"

"Unfortunately, I think I have to."


End file.
